Repo Read Online Jessica Gadziala (The Henchmen MC #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84788 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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I had to admit, it was nice to talk to a woman for a change. Being around so many men had, in a way, been almost refreshing. There was a lot less of the cattiness, the back stabbing, the bullshit. But that being said, sometimes it was just nice to hear someone complain about the humidity making their hair get crazy.

Duke and Renny mulled around, both of them giving the other a wide birth. Renny was uncharacteristically quiet, barely even saying good morning to me. I wondered if I would ever figure out what had made two reasonably friendly men go HAM on each other.

Considering this was supposed to be a job of sorts, I found myself getting a bit too invested. K wouldn't approve.

"Probie," Repo's voice called, making me stiffen and turn. He didn't call me by my name anymore. That was apparently part of his newfound asshole-ness.

"What's up?" I asked, giving him a wholly fake smile that actually hurt the muscles in my face.

"Reign needs you out front," he said, turning and expecting me to heel like an obedient little dog.

I stared daggers at his back as we went out to the front where Wolf had pulled his mammoth truck up, Moose and Fox already up in the bed working on untying the kegs. "Hey what do you need?" I asked Reign before Repo could announce that he'd brought me to heel.

"Kegs," Reign said, jerking his chin toward the bed of the truck.

Fuck. Of course.

See, after all my training with K, I knew that there wasn't much a man could do to best me unless he had even better training. It wasn't about strength per say, it was about technique and instincts. But, that being said, it wasn't sexist to admit I was weaker. Physically, I was simply not as strong as my male counterparts. I didn't like it. It chafed every time I needed help lifting something that one of the guys could lift by themselves. But it was just how it was. I wasn't as strong. Kegs, well, they were about one-hundred and sixty pounds. There was absolutely no way I could lower one to the ground by myself.

But fuck if I let anyone know that.

"On it," I said on a shrug, walking past Janie and Wolf and hopping up into the bed.

"You guys are assholes," Janie hissed and I bit into my lip to keep from smiling. I liked Janie. I think it was impossible to not like her. She was a certified badass and completely unconcerned about speaking her mind and even pushing around the members of the club. You had to respect her balls. I envied her ability to speak her mind.

After yelling at the guys, she hopped up in the bed to help me, evening up my odds.

"Ass looks great in those jeans," Fox said, giving me one of his trademark creepy smiles as I walked past.

Honestly, his comments were so frequent and, for all intents and purposes, innocent seeing as he never tried to act on any of it, that I had long since learned to ignore him. Janie, of course, was not of the same mind. That just wasn't her style.

"Funny, I don't hear you telling Cash or Reign or Wolf what nice asses they have," she snapped, reaching for the handles on the keg I was untying.

"Don't want to fuck theirs," Fox shrugged. And, well, it was the wrong thing to say around Janie.

"Are you fucking serious?" she asked, straightening and advancing him across the bed. "You do realize this is a brotherhood right? You're not supposed to..."

"Have to deal with a sister? And her fucking mood swings when she's on the rag like you obviously a..."

I felt my stomach muscles tense, knowing there was no way she was going to let him get away with that. See, Janie worked for Lo at Hailstorm and aside from being a good hacker and pro bomb-maker, she was really really good at Krav Maga. So when I saw her plant her legs wide and bend at the waist, well, I knew that Fox was going to be in a world of pain.

One second he was standing there on the truck bed. The next, he was flat on his back on the ground.

"Hey, bitch..." Moose growled, slamming his big palm down on her tiny shoulder.

And, well, he just signed his metaphorical discharge papers with that one move. Because down on the ground, Wolf was actually fucking growling and Cash and Reign had both stiffened. You did not, ever, touch another brother's old lady. No matter what.

In K's words, it was time to distinguish myself.

I turned, grabbing his wrist and twisting it, planting the palm of my other hand on his shoulder so he couldn't whip back at me and turning him fast, shoving his chest down on the top of one of the kegs. "Apologize," I demanded as he tried to throw his weight back at me and I brought my knee up to press into his back, holding him in place.


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